


keep on your mean side

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comment Fic, Crossdressing, M/M, porn this is porn go away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Leave the skirt on."</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep on your mean side

"Well, this is an interesting new development," Jason says.

Damian glares at him. Actually, _glares_ isn't the right word. Damian literally tries to kill him with his eyes, and not for the first time Jason's grateful that Damian's new-found superpowers don't include heat vision.

Fuckin' aliens.

"Not a _word_ , Todd," Damian says, but Jason barely hears him because jesus _fuck_. The kid's all tricked out in a black leather skirt, an artfully ripped top, lipstick and the big green Robin boots.

"You're in my apartment," Jason points out. "If you don't wanna talk, you know where the door is."

Which is debatable, because he's yet to see Damian come in through anything but the fucking _window_ , but.

Damian sighs. Steps toward Jason, and Jason gets a better look at what he's _holding._ "I need your help," he says, and it looks like every syllable of that sentence is causing him unending pain.

"Sexuality crises are my forte, as it happens," Jason says, smirking.

"Not –" Damian huffs, looks down at himself. _Blushes_ , and Jason licks his lips. "It's for a _job_."

"Daddy cut off your credit cards, did he?"

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Damian says.

"All right, all right." Jason holds up his hands. "Come on, buttercup. You came all the way here. What do you need?"

Damian stares at him, seeming to decide whether it's _worth_ it, but then he holds out his hand. "I can't do my eye make-up."

Jason doesn't laugh. He _wants_ to, maybe more than anything else he's ever wanted, but the kid looks so _sincere_ that it's killing him. 

"All right, man," Jason says. He gestures to the couch. "Have a seat."

"Really?" Damian asks. He follows Jason over to the couch, sits down decidedly unlady like. Jason stares at Damian's legs – they're fucking _smooth_ and then clears his throat.

"Okay, turn and face me." Damian moves sideways, hands him the eyeliner and mascara. "Shut your eyes," Jason says, and Damian gives him a look. "Look, man, you want to lose an eyeball, or you want this done right?"

Damian scowls, but shuts his eyes. Jason opens the tube of eyeliner. "You know," he said. "You could've gotten Steph to do this."

"Don't make me laugh," Damian says. "That woman looks like she does her make-up in the _dark_ \- _ouch_."

"Whoops," Jason says.

"Fucking _butcher_ ," Damian says.

"Hush up," Jason says. "I'm an artist. I used to do this for – " he clears his throat again, moves to Damian's other eye, drawing the lines in thick and bold. "Okay," he says. "Open your eyes and look up."

Damian does, and Jason leans in a little closer, cupping Damian's face with one hand while he lines the rims of Damian's eyes. Damian is completely still while he works, like he really thinks Jason's going to slip up and blind him.

"It's not so difficult, with practice," Jason tells him. "You just need a steady hand. You know, like Operation."

"What?"

"It's a kid's – nevermind," Jason says. He reaches up, thumbs one of Damian's eyelids, then the other. "It looks better if it's a little smudged," he explains, when Damian gives him a look.

"Whatever," Damian says. "It's not as if I plan to make this a habit."

"Hm," Jason says. He caps the eyeliner, then says. "Look up again," and starts on the mascara.

"What is it?" Damian asks.

"Nothin'," Jason says. "Only," he finishes one eye, moves to the other, "it's not a bad look for you, at all."

"Tt," Damian says. "Spare me the jokes, Todd. I've sacrificed enough of my pride coming here."

Jason caps the mascara, but keeps his hand on Damian's face. He needs to let him go, needs to put a stop to this _yesterday_ , but. "I'm serious," he says. "You look fuckin' hot."

Damian doesn't say anything. He's still for a minute, just letting Jason brush his fingers over his cheek, thumb his bottom lip. Then: "Where's your mirror?"

"Huh?" Jason asks.

"I have to make sure you didn't make me look like a _clown_ , Jason," Damian snaps.

"Oh, right," Jason says. "Bathroom's the first door on the left."

Damian gets up – Jason sees a quick flash of green as he unfolds his legs and steps off the couch – and heads for the bathroom. Jason follows him without thinking about it.

"Hm," Damian says. He's looking at himself in the mirror, but looks up at Jason when he walks in behind him. "Apparently there are _some_ things you're adequate at."

Jason snorts, but it's true. Damian's eyes look fucking perfect, if Jason does say so himself, and –

"You're staring," Damian says.

"Yeah, well," Jason shrugs. "I'm not gonna be the only one, am I?"

He could leave it at that, walk out the door and let Damian do the same, but then Damian _blushes_ and – 

Fuck.

Jason moves in closer, puts his hands on Damian's hips. He brushes his fingers under the tiny, frayed t-shirt until he hits bare skin and hipbones, and he watches Damian bite his lip from the mirror.

"Todd," Damian says. "What are you doing?"

He's not pulling away. His eyes are wide, a little shocked, but he's not knocking Jason on his ass like he maybe _should_.

Jason tilts his head down toward Damian's ear, says, "You got any idea what you look like right now?"

He sees Damian roll his eyes, and then Damian pushes his hips back into him just – barely. "I _am_ standing in front of a mirror," Damian says.

"Uh-huh," Jason says. He keeps one hand on Damian's hip, reaches the other one up to touch Damian's mouth. "Look at you. So fuckin' _pretty_."

Damian shivers against him, eyes flickering closed for a second. "You're crazy," he says, but he's pressing into Jason now, tilting his head back, and Jason's just about to get his mouth on him, suck on that long, pretty neck when Damian says, "Don't you dare."

Jason starts to back away, but Damian grabs his hand lightning fast and amends, "Not where the shirt won't cover."

And Jason laughs, a little crazily, and gets his hands back on Damian's shirt, tugging at the ends of it. "So let's get this off then, huh?"

Damian nods, lifts his arms and lets Jason pull his shirt off. "Fuck," Jason breathes out. Damian's fucking ripped under the t-shirt, all perfect abs and wiry muscles. Jason can't stop staring at him in the mirror, tracing the lines of his abs, twisting Damian's nipples with his fingers. Damian shivers again, leans back into him. Jason's sure he can feel how hard he is by now, and when he reaches down he can feel Damian's right there with him.

_Fuck_.

Jason gets his mouth on Damian's collarbone, sucking kisses where the shirt won't show, and Damian arches back into him. Jason watches him in the mirror, the way his eyes flicker, the way his mouth opens and closes as Jason runs his hands over his stomach, his chest –

"Are you just going to feel me up," Damian stutters out, "or are you actually going to _do_ something?"

Jason laughs, pulling back from where he's been sucking a bruise into Damian's shoulder. "You always this impatient?"

"I'm an only child," Damian says.

"Uh," Jason laughs. "Sorry to break it to you, but –"

Damian scowls at him in the mirror. "You know what I mean."

"Sure," Jason says. He touches Damian's face again, angles it so he can brush his lips against him – just a tease, just enough that when he pulls back he can taste Damian's lipgloss, something sweet like vanilla. Damian's eyes are wide again, and when Jason starts to pull back Damian reaches for him, grabs him by the back of the neck to pull him back down.

"What do you want?" Jason asks. He drags his hand over the front of Damian's skirt, then cups his ass through the leather. Damian bucks against the bathroom counter, then meets Jason's eyes in the mirror. "Fuck me," he says.

Jason almost chokes – he wasn't expecting Damian to be so direct, although really, he should've known better. He licks his lips and says, "Yeah, okay."

Damian lets out a breath he must've been holding, then reaches back, starts to unzip his skirt.

"Uh-uh," Jason says. He reaches under the skirt, strokes Damian's thighs. "You can keep that on."

Damian makes a sound that maybe started as a snort, but turns into a moan when Jason's hand traces over the – yep, those are _definitely_ panties – and cups his balls. "You're a _freak_ ," Damian says.

"Takes one to know one, baby," Jason says. He lifts the skirt up, slow, and raises his eyebrows in the mirror at Damian.

"Homage?" he asks, and Damian shows his teeth. "Green is my color, all right?"

Jason chuckles, runs his fingers over the silk of the panties. "Should I ask if you've done this before?"

"I'm not a _child_ ," Damian grits out. Jason squeezes his cock through the panties, and no, he's definitely not. "That wasn't my question," he says. He stares at Damian in the mirror, and Damian stares right back before finally snapping, "No."

Jason nods. "Did you want to?"

"If you don't stop talking," Damian says. "I'm not even sure I want to _now_."

"Hm," Jason says. He squeezes Damian again, and Damian bucks into him. He braces his hands on the counter. "That's debatable," he says.

"Todd," Damian warns.

"Yeah, I know," Jason says. He unzips his jeans, gives himself a couple of strokes – but that's about all he can _take_ without just coming all over the kid's skirt, and he's pretty sure Damian would break Bruce's no-killing rule for that one. "Murder me in my sleep, flay me alive." He reaches into the medicine cabinet to his side for the lube, starts slicking up his fingers. "You know, if you really wanted to scare people, you could start being _nice_."

"And what –" Jason slips Damian's panties down, pushes his skirt up – "would that accomplish?"

"Oh, I dunno," Jason says. He starts circling Damian's hole, slowly pushes in with one finger. "Might kill someone from shock value, I suppose."

Damian opens his mouth to say something, but it turns into a choked-off groan when Jason pushes further in and starts stroking him, gets his other hand back around Damian's cock. "You," Damian says. "Could take some of your own advice."

"Please," Jason says. He adds another finger, hits that spot that makes Damian buck into the counter so hard Jason's sure he's going to have bruises on his knees. "With the golden child gone, I'm the best fuckin' friend you've got."

Damian doesn't say anything, maybe _can't_ say anything, because Jason's fucking him with his fingers now, still slow, easing him into it. He _knows_ Damian's never done this before, wouldn't have _let_ anyone else –

Jason can't fucking _believe_ he's letting _him_ -

But hell, tonight? Damian's full of surprises.

Jason gives him a third finger. "You feel okay?" he asks, and then grins when Damian shows him his teeth again. "I'm _not_ -" Damian starts, and Jason cuts him off, tugs him up and kisses him again. This time Damian kisses back, lets Jason rough up his mouth a little, and when Jason pulls back, he says, "I know you're not."

He pulls his fingers out slow, and Damian groans again, long and low. Jason slicks up his cock, grabs a condom from the cabinet and slides it on. "How do you want it?" he asks.

Damian stares at him from the mirror, gives him a look like he can't believe Jason's _asking_ , which, fair enough.

"Just stop talking and _fuck_ me, Jason," Damian says, and Jason grins, bends to kiss him again because Damian keeps fucking _letting_ him, and it's – maybe the kid hasn't done _this_ before, but _someone's_ been here first.

Jason gets one hand back on Damian's hip, starts to push his cock inside Damian. "Just so we're clear?" he asks. "Those things are mutually exclusive."

"Oh, for _fuck's_ -" Damian starts, but then Jason's all the way _in_ him and he draws in a sharp, sharp breath. " _God_ ," Damian says.

"Uh-huh," Jason says, because he's _right_ there with him. Damian's so tight around him, feels so fucking _good_. "Just take it –"

Damian arches back into him, rolling his hips –

"Easy?" Jason finishes stupidly.

"I told you to _fuck_ me, not – _oh_ ," Damian says, because Jason slides almost all the way out and then thrusts back _in_. "God," he says. "Do that _again_."

Jason does, half-laughing and half _moaning_ because it feels fucking perfect. "Anyone ever tell you you've got a Napoleon complex?" Jason asks, and Damian aims the death-glare at him from the mirror, although the effect is kind of lost with the way his pupils are just _blown_.

"Only people who are looking for severe beatings," Damian says. "Besides – _god_ -" he says, when Jason gets his hands on Damian's hips and pulls him so that the angle's even better – "I'm nearly as tall as _you_ -"

"And ain't that a shame," Jason says. He fucks into Damian, picking up speed, biting at the back of his neck where if Damian's _lucky_ , his hair will cover it up. "That means pretty soon I won't be able to do _this_ ," he says, and he pulls Damian back and lifts him _up_ against him, and Damian makes a sound like he's fucking _dying_ , hands scrabbling at Jason's arms.

" _Fuck_ ," Damian says when Jason puts him back down again. 

Jason gets his hand back around Damian's cock, starts stroking him with the same speed that he fucks into him. They stare at each other from the mirror. Damian's eyes are wide, cheeks pink, hair all kinds of a mess.

"So fuckin' pretty like this," Jason tells him. He licks Damian's neck, his jaw, moans with Damian when he hits that sweet spot again. "Can't believe you'd ever come to _me_ like this –"

Damian slams his head back, arches into Jason, the heels of his boots hitting Jason's ankles, skirt rubbing against Jason's cock. "Come on," Jason says. He brushes Damian's smooth thighs with his hands again, squeezes his ass. "Come for me."

" _Don't_ ," Damian growls, fucking into Jason's fist and then back against him, "Tell me what to –"

The rest of it is a long, cut off moan, because Jason fucks into him so hard he has to catch him before he brains himself on the sink, and then Damian's shooting into his hand, hot and messy, shuddering underneath him. Jason can't keep his eyes off him, the way Damian's eyes roll back in his head, the way his legs wobble a little as Jason keeps fucking him, dragging his messy hand up to lick his fingers.

Damian stares at him, mouth open, and then he reaches back and grabs Jason's wrist, brings Jason's hand to _his_ mouth and starts to suck –

And Jason fucking _loses_ it, coming so hard he damn near blacks out, slamming his hips into Damian again and again until he collapses against him, panting.

"Christ," Jason says. He pulls out slow, ties up the condom and tosses it, then nudges Damian to turn him back around. His face is still flushed, lipgloss all ruined from where Jason kissed him, hair soaked with sweat.

"Well?" Damian asks, still breathing a little faster than normal. "Do I look the part?"

Jason laughs, brushes Damian's hair back from his forehead. "You look like there's no way in _hell_ I'm gonna let you do whatever you're about to do alone."

Damian grins fierce, shoves him hard enough to hit the wall behind him. "Just try and stop me, Todd," he says, and Jason grins right back at him. "That'd be a lot more convincing if your skirt wasn't still hiked up."

"I'm –"

"Going to set me on fire?"

" _No._ "

"Cut my head off?"

" _No._ "

"What, then?"

Damian glares at him, steps up real close again, and it's hard to look imposing in a fucked up mini skirt and no shirt, but the kid pulls it off. "When you least expect it," Damian threatens. "I'm going to do something inconceivably nice for you."

Jason smirks, gets his hand on Damian's chin and tilts his head up. "Sure you are. Let's fix your lipgloss before I mess it up again, huh?"


End file.
